


Dream-Hunters

by Ribby



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dream is a wish--but dreams are never better than what's real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream-Hunters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stormatdusk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stormatdusk).



> This was originally written for [**stormatdusk**](http://stormatdusk.livejournal.com/) for the [**wordsontongue**](http://community.livejournal.com/wordsontongue/) VigBean fic swap.

  
_He runs through the forest, feeling springy loam under his feet, running in and out of shafts of light as the trees falter in their canopy. The hunters are behind him; he can hear their horses. Still he runs, knowing they will catch him--for he does not run out of fear. He does not dread the hunt, nor those who lead it. He leads them a chase for joy, for the sake of running. And knowing they will take him--and willingly--makes the run all the sweeter._

_The lead horseman breaks through the forest edge before him, and he stops, panting slightly, with joy written incandescent on his face. His pursuer-- his lover--his lord--slips from his horse, a matching grin on his face... his face..._  
In London, Sean Bean sits bolt upright in bed, clutching at the strands of a dream. _I almost knew him that time._ It's a dream he's had for a while now, but the end is always the same--he can never see the one who chases him, who has caught him before and will catch him again, yet set him free whenever he asks.  
"Stupid git... 's only a dream." He knows he's talking to himself, out loud--but it isn't like there's anyone else to talk to now that the girls are gone. And because of his work, he can't really even care for a pet.  
He tries for a moment to chase down sleep, but fails, and with a huff of annoyance, gets out of bed to make himself some tea. It's not that much earlier than his alarm, but he resents being woken so completely by *that* dream.  
It isn't until much later in the day that he realizes his second thought was, "I wonder how Viggo's doing?"  
*********  
_He rides through forest, feeling the horse's muscles under his thighs, shafts of light dappling the chestnut's hide as the trees falter in their canopy. His quarry is out of sight, but only just. He urges the horse on, knowing he will catch his lover--for it is not for fear that one runs. He does not dread the hunt, nor those who lead it. He leads them a chase for joy, for the sake of running. And knowing they will take him--and willingly--makes the chase all the sweeter._

_He breaks through the forest edge and his lover is there, before him. He slips from his horse, caught once again by the joy of the hunt and the chase incandescent on his lover's face.. his face..._  
In Los Angeles, Viggo Mortensen sits upright in bed, chasing an image. It's a new dream, but has been coming with increasing frequency. He knows that with a few more moments, he could see the face of the man he chases, his lover... and he suspects that he would not be surprised. But again, he will not know... he always wakes with that beloved face fading away as quickly as the dream.  
He sighs, reaches for the notebook and pen at his bedside, and scribbles the last few impressions.  
_Incandescent smile, joy and hunt-sweat--no fear, just anticipation._  
Under those words, he writes, almost savagely, _WHO IS HE?_  
Flinging the pen and notebook back to his bedside table doesn't help--especially when the pen bounces off the table and skitters under it, never to be found again until he moves. He sighs, scrapes his hands back through his hair, and decides to be awake.  
All the way through his mate preparation and his shower, there's a thought nibbling at the edges of his brain, but it isn't until he's dressed and looking out at the skyline that it crystallizes.  
"I wonder how Sean's doing?"  
*********  
Sean curses as the shrill of the phone makes him fumble the teapot and splash hot tea on his hand. "Better be damn important, whoever you are," he mutters. "Bean." he barks into the phone.  
A second of silence, and then a familiar cackle. "I'd think I'd rate a better greeting than that, Bean. Got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did you?"  
Viggo's voice forces a smile and a laugh from him. "It's nearly teatime here, you idjit... oh wait, I forgot, you can barely tell your own time, never mind anyone else's! No, I just spilled tea on my hand when the phone rang. Sorry to bark at you, mate."  
Viggo is warm and amused... and Sean is amused he can tell that much over the phone. "I hope you've got some aloe, then. Did you put ice on it?"  
"Yes, mother," Sean chuckles. "Actually, I'm juggling the phone to do just that and...shit!" He drops the phone, fumbles and finally gets the icepack just right, and then picks up the phone again. "Sorry. I'm a clumsy git today, that's for sure."  
Viggo laughs again. "I'd say something about 'always,' but I wouldn't want you to hit me next time you see me. Actually, I'm calling for more than to hear your dulcet tones, Bean. What're you up to right now?"  
"Now?" Sean thinks for a moment. "Not much--nothing scheduled for a while, actually. Was thinking I'd go somewhere, get out of London, but hadn't decided where."  
"What about Idaho? I was thinking of retreating up there for a bit, and it would be great to have some company."  
"You want *company* on a retreat? Viggo, you're daft. I knew that, but you keep surprising me with it."  
"Only your company, Sean. Really. Anyone else, I'd probably kill within two days. I figure I can probably manage to wait a week for you."  
Sean snorts. "What a way to extend an invitation. But yeah, I'd love to. When should I come?"  
*********  
Which is how Sean finds himself doing one of his least-favorite things--flying. From Heathrow to Chicago-O'Hare (and although he hasn't been through that airport much, he hates it more every time... nothing like sprinting from your gate of your *international* flight to just barely make your connection, and then have it sit on the runway for half an hour), and finally Chicago to Boise.  
Thankfully for both his temper and his nerves, Viggo's waiting for him when he comes out of the gate, grinning cheerfully. His post-flight grumpiness is abated somewhat by the warm, very Viggo-ish hug... and even more by the travel mug Viggo hands him, full of proper tea (and that had been a *very* long Saturday, but at least Viggo knew how to brew tea now).  
"You're wonderful, Viggo."  
"And you're jet-lagged."  
"Yeah, but I'm jet-lagged because I'm no longer on a plane, I'm with you, and I have *tea*."  
Viggo bursts out laughing. The rapturous tone of Sean's voice on the word "tea" was just... "I love you too, Sean."  
Tired snickers. "Tea *is* love, at least if you're British."  
********  
Sean lasts most of the way back to Viggo's ranch, but by the time they actually get there, he's asleep, head tilted uncomfortably against the window. Viggo smiles, and runs a hand along Sean's arm and shoulder. "Hey, wake up, Sleeping Beauty."  
Sean comes awake with a grunt, then realizes where he is, and Viggo's enchanted by the smile that spreads over his face. "We home, Vig?"  
"Yeah, Sean, we're home." And the enchantment gets a little stronger, and the warmth goes a little deeper. _Home. He called it home._  
Viggo knows Sean's close to crashing, so he makes quick sandwiches for dinner. Sean's looking sleepy already, so it's no real surprise that he begs off hanging out after dinner. Viggo shows him his room, down the hall from Viggo's, and he's out like a light ten minutes later.  
Viggo stands in the doorway looking at Sean, wondering why this took him so long. He smiles, and goes to read for a while.  
**********  
For the next few days, Sean finds out what Viggo considers a "retreat". Some days, it's sleeping until noon--there are a few mornings when Sean makes tea and breakfast at 11, and Viggo's not stirring yet. Some days, Viggo's up well before Sean, and there's a pot of tea waiting, and he hears activity and the occasional cursing coming from Viggo's studio.  
Other days, they're up early and going for a hike among the gorgeous woods and scenery, and once Viggo woke him up just early enough to watch the sun rise over the mountains. That's perhaps Sean's favorite morning--the two of them, tucked together under a blanket, quietly watching the sun setting the world alight.  
And then there are the horses. Sean's a decent horseman, but Viggo rides like a centaur, like he was part of the horse. The first time Sean sees Viggo riding, he's struck by a feeling so powerful that he has to sit down for a moment, a feeling that he's somehow known Viggo and yet never known him. And that night, he has the dream again.  
**********  
_He runs through forest, feeling springy loam under his feet, running in and out of shafts of light as the trees falter in their canopy. The hunters are behind him; he can hear their horses. Still he runs, knowing they will catch him--for he does not run out of fear. He does not dread the hunt, nor those who lead it. He leads them a chase for joy, for the sake of running. And knowing they will take him--and willingly--makes the run all the sweeter._

_The lead horseman breaks through the forest edge before him, and he stops, panting slightly, with joy written incandescent on his face. His pursuer-- his lover--his lord--slips from his horse, a matching grin on his face... his face..._  
Sean wakes, his hands reaching out to grasp something he can't ever touch. He remembers where he is just in time to stifle his groan. Shifting, he decides he should make himself a hot drink to get back to sleep, and throws a robe on, padding out of his bedroom.  
Unexpectedly, Viggo's in the kitchen, looking sleep-rumpled. "Bad dream?" he asks, concern shading his face.  
Sean shrugs. "Sort of. You?" And then he gets a good look at Viggo's attire. "You're wearing _San Lorenzo_ boxers?"  
Viggo smirks. "Hey, at least I'm wearing *something*, Bean," and Sean looks down to see if his robe's come open. It hasn't, and Viggo's still smirking. "Besides, this way I salute the proper flag."  
"Bastard," he mutters, but grins anyway.  
Viggo hands him a mug of tea--green tea, spiked with a little honey and lemon. "This should help us both get to sleep. And yeah, my dreams were... less than restful."  
Maybe it's the quiet, maybe it's Viggo's own admission... but Sean finds himself needing to tell Viggo about his dream.  
"I keep having this dream, not every night, but most nights. I'm running through a forest, and someone's on horseback, chasing me."  
Viggo's eyes widen at that. "Sounds like an uncomfortable dream," he interjects--but there's both care and interest in his voice, and Sean knows that look--it's Viggo's "aha" look, the one he gets when he's just put all the pieces together. Obscurely reassured by that--perhaps Viggo will have the answer he doesn't--Sean plows forward.  
"It's not, actually--I'm looking forward to whoever it is catching me, and I'm not afraid--I'm running because I can, because the thrill of the chase makes the catch that much sweeter. Then he catches up with me, comes off his horse to catch me, smiling... and I can't ever see his face. And then I wake up." By the time he finishes, he's clenching his tea mug so hard his fingers ache. He stares down into the murky liquid, unable to meet Viggo's eyes.  
"Hey." Viggo's voice is closer than he expects, and Sean glances up to find Viggo regarding him calmly. "What're you afraid of, huh? Afraid I'll reject you for a dream, Sean? Not going to happen. I'm your friend, I always will be. No matter what your dreams are. Maybe even because of your dreams."  
Sean manages a small grin. "Yeah... I...yeah. Thanks." Viggo curls an arm around his shoulders, touches his forehead gently to Sean's.  
They drink their tea in silence, part with a friendly hug, and Sean sleeps dreamlessly for the rest of the night... but lonely.  
***************  
Sean's gotten into the habit of hiking on the days when Viggo works the horses. He's not a bad horseman, just not up to Viggo's level--and hiking alone gives him time to think.  
The next morning, he can't seem to stay still--too much energy and nervous tension. He'd slept, but not well, after their conversation, and woken edgy and unsettled. _Maybe even because of your dreams._ Viggo's voice echoes in his head, and he wonders if maybe, just maybe, Viggo might be the one in his dream. It all makes much more sense when he's wandering alone. Thankfully, Viggo is already up and working with the horses, so Sean just waves as he heads off, pack on his back.  
Usually, his cure is letting his feet go where they will, while his mind does the same--he's solved a lot of puzzles and problems that way. But today, not even that is working--he can't stay still for more than a few minutes, and none of the gorgeous scenery is registering.  
Sean wanders into a copse of trees, and, unconsciously, his steps pick up... minutes later, he drops the pack he was carrying, and begins to run.  
*Yes!* The joy of running, of feeling branches break underfoot, of the trees blurring as he runs--*this* is what he's needed. And with that knowledge, he's not at all surprised to hear hoofbeats paralleling his run, glancing over to see a flash of brown horse behind him, on the other side of the trees, and the white of Viggo's grin.  
He puts on speed, and bursts out of the trees with Viggo right behind him. Grinning wildly, he zigs and zags around the thinning trees, slowing Viggo down, but it isn't long before he's cornered. Viggo gently stops the horse, and slides down to face him.  
"Led me on a hell of a chase, Sean. Can you see my face, now? Because I can see yours. And it's exactly who I thought it would be."  
"You... the dream?" Sean's winded, a bit, but it's surprise that makes him speechless.  
"Yep."  
"How long have you known?"  
"Not long... only since the night you told me. I was hoping you'd tell me more--but actions seem to work better than words. Speaking of which," Viggo steps forward, slides his hands up Sean's arms into their familiar warrior grip, and kisses him. Gently, but implacably.  
Sean kisses him back, but only for a moment--he's still uncertain. "What... I don't understand, Vig."  
Viggo smiles. "It's a message, Sean. No matter where you are, no matter what you do, I'll let you go--and then I'll catch you again. Always."  
Sean smiles. "And I'll run free, but I'll always return, until I no longer have to run again. Yes. That's it, Viggo."  
They return to Viggo's cabin, talking quietly for the rest of the day... and that night, curled together in Viggo's bed, they dream. The dreams have changed--they can see the face of the one they love; and this time, when they wake, it is to each other, and smiles of joy.  



End file.
